


Starbucks is a synonym for Wingman

by Mxtanoia



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Squip, Gen, I stg I'm a good person, POV Jeremy Heere, Reader-Insert, Teenage Dorks, gender neutral reader, i can't believe myself, this was written after I went to Starbucks nearly six times in one week, who knows if a Squip will be needed after this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mxtanoia/pseuds/Mxtanoia
Summary: Sometimes it's the most effective method to meet your crush for some basic coffee at Starbucks.





	Starbucks is a synonym for Wingman

**Author's Note:**

> This is slightly sexual kiddos and something that is based on a true event (up until a certain point)  
> Stay sin-free and don't do it like the Reader-persona, ok ok kids xxxx

Impaitently I wait at the entrance of the mall. { Y/N } was supposed to be here five minutes ago, did they just ask me to grab Starbucks with them as a joke?  
**No** , I tell myself. { Y/N } really wouldn't ghost me, they went out with worse than me. (It's rude to think things like these, but it's true) They aren't like that, I can trust them because besides Michael, they are one of my only friends and I've known them since elementary school.  
"Jem-Jam!", they call, immediately a low and embarassed groan rolls over my lips. I roll my eyes. 'Why, just why', I ask myself. After all these years they did not dismiss that nickname.

I turn my head and see their familiar face; their familiar hair colour. Seeing them flashes a vivid mental image of them in elementary school. Third grade, first day after summer, they standing infront of our class. Painfully, I automatically remind myself of the foolish crush I had on them. They always looked amazing, their personality was radiating, while I was just the chubby, awkward kid. My admiration for them never went away.  
I wonder why they still stick with a loser like me, they never had a phase where they resented either me or Michael until now, even when they were asked by the popular kids to hang out quite a few times. They finally approach, get infront of me and want to embrace me in a hug. I return the gesture and feel their chest against mine, their hair tickling my bare jaw. I feel incredibly comfortable having them this close to me. I assure myself, it's platonic. Absolutely platonic, they wouldn't be after me anyway. They have plenty of options and if I am honest, I might be ones of the second choices.

While having { Y/N } in my arms, I briefly remember how they used to be taller than me; until I overshot them by a couple proud inches in Middle School. Michael would sometimes tease them for that by telling them to get the furthest up item in the grochery store or purposely pick the biggest size of sweatshirts for them so they'd look sunken in.  
I only smile at that mental picture as we make our way to our destination, Starbucks. { Y/N } gets out their phone, I see them open their messenger, most likely to supply me with the newest gossip from Jenna Rolan, she actually talks to them. Then again, Jenna is usually out to find someone to just dump her gossip onto, not to demean them in any way, but that is how Rolan rolls. I mentally slap myself for that pun.  
"So Jer-Jam", they begin as we approach the Coffee Shop. Their eyes twinkle with mirth and I wonder what they will be telling me.

"Did you know that Mrs. Jackson and Mr. Reyes are supposedly a thing?", they began to gossip and slid their phone in the pocket of their jacket.  
"Really?", I inquire as we get in the queue.  
"Yep, Jenna said that Olivia Hansen saw them getting at it in the Janitor's closet", their voice gets lower the more details they spill. "I call bullshit, though." I nod in agreement, "Olivia is known to spread fake news like wildfire. Probably just saw two students if anything." Then they clearly dip into sarcasm, "Oh Jeremy", they say, clutching their chest a little fake dramatically and sighing in exasperation, "You are seriously the best guy to gossip with." What I don't notice is their gaze drifting off into an affectionate one. I turn away before that.

Shaking my head and snorting a little, I take a glance at the menu. I go for a basic Java Chocolate Chip Frappucchino. Nobody ever went wrong with Chocolate, not that I am often at Starbucks, but I only hear that this is supposed to taste good, so I go with that.  
{ Y/N } heckles besides me. I raise an eyebrow, as they begin to talk. "I bet you're gonna go for the most white girl drink ever, Java Chocolate Chip Frap, am I right?" They mock me. I know they aren't truthful, I honestly live for our playful roasting sessions though.  
"Better make work for the Baristas easier than list all the extras you prefer, { Y/N }", I shoot back sassily.

After ordering, giving our names (obviously giving names that are hilariously difficult to spell, the barista gave us a "are-you-two-seriously-fucking-with-me-like-that-right-now" stare), we pay for our beverages and I sneak a glance at them while waiting for our Frappucchinos to be prepared. While I am not the guy to dig people _only_ for their appearance, I have to admit that { Y/N } does have a nice body. My eyes scan them from head to toe and I note, they like to dress so they empathise only the best about them. It was no miracle that Jake Dillinger once pined after them and went to School Dance in Sophomore Year with them, making me pretty envious of Jake, because in the end, I had to friend-date Michael, not that I minded, but he had been of the view that { Y/N } and I would have been a good match.

Soon after paying and adjusting our drinks at the counter, we sit down a little further away from all the shoppaholics ad sip on our drinks. The mall is huge and lucky for us, there is a calm niche near a Subway. Nobody ever goes here and usually, Michael goes here to pick up some Mary Jane, but only on Mondays.  
"I don't get why Starbucks is so praised", I confess, stabbing with my straw in the icy coffee/milk/whipped cream mixture. Meanwhile { Y/N } takes a sip and moans lowly. It feels like a flash zaps through my body. That sounded dangerously sexual to me. A deep breath rolls out of my mouth, I take another sip and continue my confession, "I mean, you can get all the ingredients at the grochery store and you can surely prepare it at home as well."  
"I like it", they reply, straw between their teeth as they suck more of their sugary drink. "Sure, it's hella overpriced, but it's good and making that-" They raise the cup a little before resuming to their argument. "-at home, dunno, would just take the, y'know, _Starbucksness_ away about it." A chuckle errupts from the back of my throat, { Y/N } can be so cute.

"Did you say something, Jer-Jam?", they ask. 'Fuck', I think fearfully to myself. Did I just say that aloud?  
I feel my face slightly heat up. In my head I pray they didn't understand what I just said.  
Their familiar { EYECOLOUR } eyes glance up at me through their lashes while they are a little hunched over. I'm usually not that poetic, but hell, I could get lost in them every, damn, day. I feel weird admitting it, but I win every staring contest against them, because I just space out looking into their eyes.  
So, my heart nearly stops. I scold myself for why I am thinking this way about one of my best friends. They. Are. Not. After. Me. Get that in your head, Jeremiah Heere.

Finally, they lean back up, they took off the lid of their drink and now some some whipped cream was sticking to their upper lip.  
"{ Y/N }", I say, reaching for one of the napkins we took, "You got some on your li-"  
I don't get any further as they playfully wink at me and let their tounge run along their upper lip.  
I feel a warmth pool in my lower body and my drink kind of slips out of my hand, I drop it and it spills all over my pants.  
"Fucking Hell!", I curse loudly while they errupt into laughter, before they hand me the napkins to somehow rub my pants dry. Which is an awkward task.

Due to the fact that I deem rubbing my pants dry, slightly inappropriate in the middle of a mall, I go with patting them dry and { Y/N }'s idea of quickly popping in at H&M to buy a new pair. It's not ideal as I seriously didn't want to spend more money today than on sugary coffee. (Sugary coffee, that is coating my pants) With my friend's help we quickly picked out three pants for me to try on and now I'm standing here in the dressing room of H&M. I eye myself critically. It fits, however I need { Y/N}'s input on it. "How's it look?", they call from the outside, "Can I come in?" I accept.

Their { EYECOLOUR } eyes roam over me and I swear I saw a hint of need in them. "Suits you", they comment and then look up to face me. A moment of silence wages between us until they lean in and give me a chaste kiss on the cheek. My jaw hangs open. "W-Wha-", I begin to stutter as I feel my face become dangerously hot. "Apology, for ruining your old pants." I feel my heart pound as I wordlessly stare at them, they stare back. I don't know if we both are thinking the same thing right now, however, almost as if we are mirroring each other, we both lean in and our lips meet somewhere inbetween again.

A low groan runs over my lips as they push me against the fullbody mirror at the wall and push aside the stool. The noise irritates me for a moment, but I quickly dismiss it, I'm making out with my longterm crush in a goddamn H&M changing room.

**Author's Note:**

> ~ extra ~
> 
> "Those hickeys weren't necessary", I mumble as we approach the checkout with two pants on hand. { Y/N } smugly waltzes next to me, with the knowledge that everyone can see the hickeys they made at my neck. (I consented to them, of course, it's just really embarassing since they are so visible, I also somehow regret I didn't do any at their neck)  
> The lady at the checkout just eyes us and shakes her head, I still worry but { Y/N } interwinds their fingers with mine, while I pay. I feel slightly better.
> 
> [ up until the thing with the pants this really happened
> 
> EDIT: up on my writing Tumblr too; https://sugarfreeslushies.tumblr.com/ ]


End file.
